


Yet Only My Lover To Me

by misbegotten



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: F/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/530943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle has bad dreams, even aboard Destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yet Only My Lover To Me

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel of sorts to [Come to Me, Softly and Sweetly](http://archiveofourown.org/works/516551). Title from "Le Mauvais Larron" by Rosamund Marriott Watson. This is really just PWP. Enjoy!

Belle was trapped. The convex shell of the stasis pod remained firm against her hands, refusing to yield as she pushed. And pounded. And clawed. She stifled a sob as her hands scrambled uselessly against the dark shell. Trembling, she lowered her hands and dropped her head, letting it rest on the cool surface of the stasis pod cover. Someone would come for her, surely. Someone would come.

Someone _had_ come. A figure appeared before her, distorted by the curve of the pod, but unmistakable. _Regina_. "Did you think you could escape me?" Regina's voice rang out true despite the barrier between them. The queen lay her hands on the pod, where Belle had clawed uselessly. "Did you think I would not find you? You owe me, dear Belle. You owe me pain and misery for what your cursed _beloved_ did to me." Regina's lips were crimson, her eyes malevolent and dark with anger as she stared triumphant at Belle. "You will remain trapped here until _I_ set you free." And then she was gone in a mist of black smoke.

"No," Belle moaned, beating the walls of her enclosure once again. "Nononono!"

" _Belle_!"

Someone was shaking her, hands firm on her shoulders and Belle managed to open her eyes, meeting Nicholas Rush's weary look. Some of her panic ebbed as she gazed upon his face in the dull light of Destiny's night. He kept his hands on her shoulders, though his grip loosened. "You were thrashing about in your sleep," he said, torn between sleepy irritation and genuine concern. "Dreams again?"

She immediately felt guilty for waking him. It was unusual enough to pry Rush from his work on Destiny's systems; to have the luxury of keeping him in her bed was beyond expectations. "I'm sorry," she managed miserably. "Go back to sleep."

His expression softened, though his tone was peevish as he muttered, "I'm awake now." He pressed a kiss to her brow, however, and gently wrapped his arms around her. "You need more rest."

Belle shuddered lightly at the thought of resuming her dream. Instead she burrowed into Nicholas' embrace, her fingers digging into the worn fabric of his t-shirt. "So do you," she said weakly. It was an old argument between them, and not one that she felt like pursuing now. "Nicholas--"

He paused in tracing a lazy circle on her back. "What is it?"

Belle shook her head, as if she could shake the remnants of her dream away. "Nothing. Just... make love to me. Please."

Nicholas tightened his hold on her, pressing another kiss to her hair. "You don't need to ask me twice, love. But are you sure you're okay?"

"I will be," Belle said, raising her lips to his. "Help me forget."

"As you wish," he said, and she thought briefly of the number of times she'd heard those same words from Rumplestiltskin's lips. It pierced her, and she desperately wanted to lose herself in Nicholas' kiss. Not to forget Rumplestiltskin, but to forget twenty-eight years. And to remember what she'd lost.

His touch was teasing, gentle and light, but she put her hand on the back of his neck and drew him in deeper, more intensely. He responded with a muffled grunt, gasping against her mouth, and then his tongue was dueling with hers, tasting her. They'd made love gently, sweetly before, but this was something more desperate, more urgent. True to his word, Nicholas seemed determined to erase her thoughts and drown her in pleasure. His kisses were bruising, biting at the soft skin of her lips, and she reveled in it.

Belle's hands moved under his shirt, drinking in the touch of his skin against her fingertips, before pulling the garment off altogether, forcing Nicholas to break off his kisses. He growled lightly and stripped off her tank top in turn, freeing her breasts for his attention. Nipping lightly at the curve of flesh, he nuzzled a nipple to a peak, rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger to join its twin. Belle arched her back as he sucked, heat pooling in her loins and she knew if he were to put his fingers there he would find her wet and ready. He was not willing to forego the pleasure of her breasts yet, though, and trailed kisses across the creamy skin, biting lightly enough to mark but not so hard as to cause her pain. With exaggerated care he laved the places where he'd marked her, and Belle smiled, brushing the hair from his face before drawing him up again for another bruising kiss against her swollen lips.

He slipped his leg between her thighs, and she could feel the hard length of his erection pressed against her. She gave an experimental twist of her hips, and was rewarded when he bucked against her and groaned. "Wanton thing," he muttered, but it was said fondly and she slid her hand down his stomach to cup him through the fabric of his briefs.

"Inside me," she demanded, peeling down the fabric and he kicked them off before wrestling her out of her underwear. He dropped the clothing to the floor and put a hand on her ankle, running his fingers up the length of her leg and teasing the curls at her center with his thumb.

"Inside," she repeated impatiently, but his eyes took on an uncharacteristically playful look and he put his hands on her hips.

"I made a promise to distract you," he said. "We do it _my_ way." He dipped his head and teased her center with his tongue and, dear gods, she was awash in pleasure as he parted her, tasting the soft warmth of her desire. He sucked gently, then licked, and sucked again, and she grasped the bedclothes with both hands lest she come apart completely. Nicholas seemed to take her feeble attempts at control as a challenge, and redoubled his efforts to drive her to the brink with the teasing of his tongue. She keened as his stubbled cheek brushed her thigh, and then he was splitting her in two, every muscle in her body tensing as she fell over into the abyss of pleasure.

Nicholas' hands spanned over her abdomen as she heaved beneath him, trying to catch her breath, and he kissed the inside of her thigh before dragging himself up her length. He parted her legs with his knee and pressed his erection against her, hovering with an unspoken question. Belle ran her fingers through his hair and pulled him down for a kiss, feeling wicked as she tasted herself in his mouth, and he murmured something incomprehensible as he sheathed himself in her.

She was hot and wet, and they moved together in a graceful, timeless rhythm. Belle twined her fingers in his and urged him down for another kiss, the change in angle making the sense of fullness, of completion perfect. Hiking her legs around him, she pulled him deeper and he gasped as he speeded, losing control by the second. She was in no mood for gentleness, and he responded to her urgency with the quick snap of his hips and the tightening of his fingers in hers. He stuttered once, twice, then emptied himself inside her with a drawn-out groan and sank to his elbows over her.

"Belle," he said softly, pressing kisses across her cheek and to her lips.

She put a finger over his lips before he could say more. "Thank you, Nicholas." She pulled him down to her, and he rested his head on her shoulder. "Thank you for being you."

"It's what I do best," he said drowsily, wavering on the edge of sleep.

She quirked her lips, the remnants of her dream banished. She was here now, and the future lay before her, an adventure to be explored. And not alone, she thought, tracing her fingers lightly across Nicholas' back. Never alone.


End file.
